


freckles

by oikkawa (orphan_account)



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, birthday fic, freckled shion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9851348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/oikkawa
Summary: Nezumi always soothed for a star to guide him but what he gained was a whole constellation.Shion had stars in his face. The laity? They called them freckles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a birthday present for @ikswoon

D _oubts the light_ of _stars_ , 

the _sun_ has heat, 

_doubt even the truth_ , 

_but trust in my love_

                                                 - William Shakespeare

 

"Shion" is a flower (specifically, a type of aster) with medicinal value. The flower also means "I will remember you" or simply "remembrance".

 

Shion, named after that flower, had stars on his face. Small cosmic explosions, constellations that turned his skin into a canvas, to paint and create shapes, to give life. The pale of his face, his chest and his shoulders served as a background for the immensity of worlds that lay in there, day after day.

 

And Nezumi loved to count all those worlds. Seven on his chin. Twenty-two on his left shoulder. Nineteen on his neck. He liked to slide his mouth over soft skin, feeling the taste of marks that united in harmony to create the most sublime creature.

 

A flower. Kissed by the sun, cultivated by pain and suffering, now resting dully in Nezumi’s arms, as if meant for that place.

 

And Nezumi loved him.

 

Loved Shion so deeply that he sometimes trembled, his face hiding in his white hair, avoiding violet eyes that would often open in the middle of the night, inquisitive. Eyes so bright that the dark room would light up.

 

Nezumi was only a blind man seeing the sun for the first time and that sun was pulling him down the stream. He was getting lost.

 

Love has nothing sublime. He comes in, makes a mess and leaves you to clean the drawers and the papers on the floor. Nezumi's house was a mess.

 

He was a mess because his flower had brought a storm, every drop of rain turning into caress, the wind taking away the uncertainties and fear.

 

Shion is a flower and, among many other flowers, it had the sweetest aroma.

 

Nezumi loved his flower.

 

He loved him as he settled into Nezumi's chest, a cup of coffee in his hand.

 

He loved how he sang in the shower and how he woke Nezumi up every day with a kiss on the forehead.

 

He loved the way his face squirmed, teeth biting the tip of his pen as he tried to solve an extremely difficult puzzle. 

 

He loved his eyes, the subtle curve of his nose. His mouth. The way the corners of his lips curved upward, almost imperceptibly (but Nezushi noticed, he always noticed).

 

He loved his almost ethereal image on lazy mornings when the sun dared to cross some gap in the curtains, bathing his body in light. Loved his name. Shion, Shion, Shion. Remembrance. Nezumi thought it suited him well, because, as long as he lived (and even after his death) he would remember that name. 

 

He loved him deeply, just as every gardener loves his flower. He loved him that way, not knowing when or where. He just knew. He just felt it. And that was enough because he could not love otherwise.

 

Nezumi always soothed for a star to guide him but what he gained was a whole constellation.

 

Shion had stars in his face. The laity? They called them freckles.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> iiwaoi.tumblr.com


End file.
